Glass Spire
by Ash Gray Kitsune
Summary: Tony Stark had known about Aperture, in the broadest sense, for years; and like most of the scientists and engineers he knew, he believed it to be something of a Shangri La, an Avalon. It didn't exist in the real world...until he woke up to a hotel room, a talking eyeball, and Clint Barton sneaking up on him. Ratings are for bad jokes and the mouths of two stressed out Avengers.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Glass Spire**

**Author: Ash Gray Kitsune**

**Fandom(s): Avengers Movieverse, Portal **

**Pairings: ClintxTony**

**Disclaimer: I do not own either of the Portal games, nor do I own the Avengers movie. **

**A/N: Started this out as something else, then had a brain fart and chucked Tony in. **

**Glass Spire**

_"Hello, and welcome to the Aperture Science computer-aided enrichment center."_ Brown eyes, normally ringed with dark circles and the usual smudge of black grease, snapped open at the precisely perfect, _female_ voice that rang through the room...and Tony Stark sat up slowly, the arc reactor in his chest spinning as his stomach turned over, leaving an acidic taste in his mouth. The room he woke to was a curious mixture of old and new; glossy black panels were half-covered in ratty motel wallpaper, complete with false wainscoting, while the ceiling tiles were half gray textured stucco, half featureless white. He was resting on a crappy-looking old mattress, but the springs inside had to be high quality; they barely bowed when he moved, let alone squeaked.

None of it, though, was even remotely familiar to him. Least of all that _voice_; it grated on his nerves, strung tight as they already were, and put his back up, as Steve would say. Speaking of the big blonde...no, no one was here. He was alone in a room that looked like it was from an Asimov/Grisham novel, clean as a whistle and fully awake...and dressed in a uniform. An _orange_ uniform.

"Fuck this, I'm not in prison; the fuckers didn't try me with a jury..." He muttered to himself, reaching for the zipper and tilting his head a little to peer at the insignia on the left side of his chest...only to gape, bug-eyed at a logo that had lurked in the annuls of science for the last twenty-five years. "Oh _fuck._" He stood up and backed away from the bed, eyes darting all over the room. No Jarvis, no workshop, no Tower...Fucking hell.

"...I'm in Cave freakin' Johnson's playhouse." He whispered hoarsely, brown eyes wide.

"Cave Johnson? Who's that, might I ask?" The slightly manic British accent behind him nearly made Tony scream, and he tumbled across the room, one hand pressed to the reactor in his chest, eyes blown wide as...a ball with a big blue eye peered in through the doorway.

"Who the fuck are you?!" The ball bounced a little, and that same voice emerged, young and reminding him of a slightly less haughty Loki.

"I am Wheatley, at your service! I must say, you're quite the surprise! Most, if not all, of the other test subjects aren't nearly as...vocal as you."

"As vocal?"

"They are rather limited to grunting. You, though...you must have an exceedingly high IQ to withstand the long sleep!" Tony decided to take that as a compliment before his brain snapped back to two little words.

"Test...subjects?" He spelled out slowly, edging slowly around the other side, wondering if there was any way he could use a drawer as a weapon. He felt so naked without the suit...The eye seemed to pout a little, and sighed.

"Reverting back, are we? Ah, well..." The eye glanced away for a moment, staring down what might have been a hallway, and looked rather nonplussed. "I didn't expect _him_ to wake so soo-AGHHHHHH!" Tony smashed pass the floating ball 'o doom and took off at a dead sprint down the shadow-lined corridor, leaving Wheaton or whatever the fuck its name was long behind...of course, he had damaged the mobility strut, so Mr. Wheat-thin wouldn't be moving anytime soon. He grinned as ahead of him were a set of the black panels that were locked out, and he dove between them, breathing a faint sigh of relief that there was nothing the eyeball could use as a track to follow him.

_Fucking love back doors..._He glanced up and down the walkway, and decided to head deeper into the darkness, rather than trust the false security of the light above. Besides, he was his own damn flashlight.

...

The first thing he saw when he woke up was a dingy white ceiling, water-stained and slowly molding. Clint sat up, slowly, moving his hands slowly across the bed he'd been sprawled across, eyes narrowed. There was something wrong about this chintzy old hotel room, something that grated on his sniper's nerves. Assuring himself that there wasn't a bomb beneath him, Hawkeye shifted off the bed and stood up, wobbling a little in the odd boots and jumpsuit he'd been dressed in. Orange, with an odd symbol on the upper right chest...and not a one of his weapons cached on him.

Dammit.

"I'm blaming Stark for this..." He growled out, feeling a little unsettled at how rough his voice was...how long had he been down here? For that matter, where the hell was he? The accoustics were all wrong...Clint's head came up suddenly, and he made his way to the door, testing the knob...and was a little nonplussed when it turned without a squeak under his hand. There had been...something; something that echoed faintly. It sounded like..._a dying scream. But a scream from what? C'mon, Barton...No one else is here...it's up to you to not fuck this up. _

He slid out into the hallway, hugging the walls, and blinked to see sunlight...but not true sunlight. This was from a few hundred UV bulbs, mimicking it almost perfectly, but any human would know the difference, if they were coherant. But if they weren't...his skin started to crawl with the sensation was being watched, and Clint began to jog down the hallway, unnerved by the black, featureless panels that lined it. The light ahead of him was poor; enough that even his sharp eyes couldn't penetrate it, and the floor beneath his feet seemed to sway and move, not much, but a man who routinely perched on tall buildings for the hell of it felt the movement almost instinctually.

Crap.

A faint breeze spurred him on, though, and at last he came to a section of the hallway where the panels looked to be in the process of moving; they'd frozen completely into place, leaving slender gaps that led to shadowy service ducts and a walkway...something that made Clint smirk. _What was it Tony said? All the best security in the world, and you still need a way to get around it. God, I love back doors. _Moving the panels out of the way, he slipped inside, taking a moment to get his bearings. He was farther down than he'd thought; now that he had cool air flowing over him, he tested the scent, wrinkling his nose at the acrid chemical smell. But it didn't burn his sinuses or his eyes, just made things uncomfortable...he could deal with that.

He closed his eyes for a moment, spreading his feet and testing the orientation of the place, turning slowly towards the east, where the walkway dipped further into the dark bowels of...wherever the fuck he was. And yet, that was where his instincts were pointing him, and dark eyes narrowed. Normally, he trusted his senses...but he almost was afraid to here. But turning the other way...west...no, that wasn't right, either. In fact, he felt a sickening chill roll up his spine as he stared up into the lightening corridor. That was the source of the scream...and he realized, he didn't want to go there. Not now. Not ever.

So down he fled into the darkness, hoping against hope that he could find a way out...

...

It was the footsteps that made Tony stop and look back; there was nothing behind him, but in this gloom, he couldn't tell. It felt like a super-heavy atmospheric effect, but he'd recognized the symptoms a few hours ago, and grimly carried on. There were certain things that a human body could be exposed to that would make food, drink, and even sleep unnecessary; that was the goal of this testing facilities, after all, and Crazy Cave had been one of the best, brightest bastards in that field of biophysics. But the fog had certain...reactions with some people. Tony still felt uneasy, though he chalked that up to being someplace he'd never, ever wanted to set foot in, without his suit, his AI, or his team. Perfectly acceptable reasons to be uneasy...and there they were again.

Tony crouched down, eyes narrowed, and waited, zipping up the body suit to hide the glow of his reactor. Friend or foe, he wanted to be the one to identify first, not they...and he was the only person in the world with a heart of light. He placed a hand on the grating and took a deep breath; there'd been no split offs in the whole time he'd traveled down, so whoever it was had to have come from the panel openings...or from the false light. The steps were light, quick, and firm, and the only reason he'd heard them was because the grating had been coming up in some places. Otherwise...near total silence. His mouth went dry...and then a dark figure came up out of the fog, and Tony's foot snapped out, connecting only with air as the other went airborne, perching on the railing.

"Holy fuck, Stark, the least you could do was warn a guy!" Clint's angry, raspy baritone could have made Tony weep; instead, he growled a little and stood up, crossing his arms.

"And who was it who told me never trust a guy?" Clint blinked, and gave him a weak grin.

"Touche. Not to put too fine a point on it, man, am I glad to see you..." Tony just smiled and clapped him on the shoulder, easing back to lean on the railing as Clint joined him standing up.

"Good to see you too, Barton. I take it you don't have any idea where we are?"

"Not a fuckin' clue." Tony sighed and brushed back his hair, rubbing his face.

"Okay...we're in Aperture Science. We're in the labs that scientists the world over consider Avalon. And we're trapped here." Clint blinked, and Tony shook his head. "It's like Steve's ice, only more diabolical. Aperture ran a massive testing program from the 1950's on; the creator, Cave Johnson, briefly, very briefly, worked with my old man."

"And...this dude was batshit crazy, I take it?"

"Batshit is putting it mildly. He died of moon-rock cancer."

"...No fucking way."

"Way. Now, c'mon. We gotta get out of here..."

"But...how?" Tony turned and looked at him, and Clint shrugged. "You said this place was like Avalon; no one leaves it, then. Right?" Tony just smirked.

"...No one puts Tony in a corner."

...

A few hours later, Tony was grinning; they'd finally hit a jackpot of sorts. Clint watched as the engineer led him down a much older passageway now, one with branchings that led elsewhere, but none of them were what Tony wanted. It was...fascinating to watch; really, Clint was content to let Tony lead, because it meant he could watch the engineer make some truly spectacular deductions. Like the corridor that led to the incinerator; somehow, Tony had known by the feel of the metal that that was a bad way to go, and sure enough, not five minutes later, hot fire had spouted, leaving Clint faintly in awe...though he was very careful to look bored.

How he knew where things were, Clint had no clue; he chalked it up to crazy-scientist-syndrome and just sat back for the ride, though his fingers itched a little, and he wished he had his bow. Not that he couldn't kill a man sixty ways to Sunday with just his hands, but still...it was a comfort thing. Tony seemed to understand; one hand was constantly tapping on his reactor's surface, something that had been a constant source of confusion until the rest of the team had seen the footage from Jarvis...and the gaping, dark hole where Obadiah Stane had ripped Tony's heart out.

So, now, they understood...and really, it was reassuring for the whole Tower now, since without Tony's reactor, and without Tony...they'd have all been a fucked up little group with nothing to their names. Instead, Iron Man gave them a home, and Tony showed them his heart. He still remembered when the storms had blown through New York, and Tony had turned himself into a power outlet for light, phones, warmth...

"Alright, birdbrain. We're here." 'Here' could have been rather loosely defined, but Clint had the sinking feeling that it was the opening in the wall, so similar to the one far, far behind them, and yet...different. The panels were jagged here, broken and falling apart, and the floor dingy, dusty. Peering the gloom, he realized that the lights were gone, and what light inside was washed out, filtered from far above.

"You sure about this?"

"Sure as Steve draws Dummy. I know it looks fuckin' freaky, but I promise, there's nothing harmful inside. One good thing about Aperture, unlike Umbrella, is that if someone died, they fucking stay dead here."

"Umbrella? The pharmaceutical company?"

"...Forget I said anything about them." Clint gave him a look, and Tony gave him one right back, eyes narrow. "Later. Right now, we need weapons...and the offices are the first, and best, place to check."

"Thought you said there was no one down here."

"...Nobody that's squishy. The tech's what you gotta worry about."

**Crap? Total crap? Fuck if I know, I'm just writing what the muses tell me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Glass Spire**

**Author: Ash Gray Kitsune**

**Fandom(s): Avengers Movieverse, Portal **

**Pairings: ClintxTony**

**Disclaimer: I do not own either of the Portal games, nor do I own the Avengers movie. **

**A/N: Computer crapped out, and I've been stuck for three months with my hand and a notebook. And Tony's made numerous dirty jokes about that. So, after a long few months, the second chapter!**

**Glass Spire**

The computers were long since fried, but Clint gathered up cording and parts nonetheless, fashioning as long a rappelling line as he could out of the plastic and copper. The grappling hook Tony had half-assed sketched out with a piece of burnt metal went together mostly right, and Clint tested the strength with his weight, satisfied when he didn't fall flat on his ass. It didn't fold up like his other ones, and he'd have to be careful about it catching, but coiling up the makeshift rope, he had to admit that Stark wasn't half-bad at this MacGuyver thing.

At the moment, Tony was sorting through a pile of tech up to his waist, casually throwing the discarded pieces over his shoulder with an expletive and the occasional grimace. Clint just grinned a little and glanced over the abandoned offices once more as he wove cords together in a complicated braid. When the scientists had left, they'd also abandoned their research; two of the four hours they'd spent here already had been filled with Tony's frantic reading of everything he could get his greedy paws on, and Clint was grateful that he'd taken the time to translate to idiotese for him…because what was in those papers had stopped the archer cold.

_They created portals…real life, honest to god portals, not just put a hole in a wall. _The drawings and photographs were simple, and chillingly honest; the one of the guy grinning and waving from the ceiling after sticking his arm into the wall nearly made Clint panic right then and there. Add to the turret designs of the little walking robots that were supposed to shoot the shit out of intruders…he shivered, just a little. It was more than terrifying, and he hated being without weapons and his partner. Natasha would have been nonplussed, sure, but…she adapted to roles like this easily.

Clint didn't. Not like this. He was a sniper, for god's sake; he focused down the barrel of a rifle or the shaft of an arrow, and he took out the target, packed up, went home. He didn't…he didn't do things like this, deep under the earth. That alone had nearly made him panic; he wasn't claustrophobic, but he hated being so far from the sky, from air that wasn't staving off his hunger and thirst. He hated being without the team…

"Hey, birdbrain." Clint rolled his eyes and turned to see Tony staring down at a tablet, examining the spider-webbed surface, eyes steadfastly avoiding his, and Clint bit back a groan. _Goddammit, don't let this turn into a talk about feelings. _

"What?" Tony sighed a little, tossing the tablet aside.

"Wondering what the team's up to." The archer shrugged, hunching a little over his braiding and wondering that a little himself.

"Probably trying to figure out where the fuck our stupid asses got lost." A snort came from the genius now buried in the trash pile, and Tony just snickered.

"…We really need to stop drinking together, don't we?"

"Yeah, but then Natasha loses her blackmail."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that. But something tells me this wasn't the result of a bender."

"Hate to say this, but I agree. Last thing I remember is falling asleep on the couch across from you." Tony gave him an odd look over his shoulder.

"…Were we watching Wall-E?" Clint gave him a similar look, swallowing back the sudden rise of nervousness.

"Yeah…"

"And then we woke up here, you to a scream, me to a talking eyeball." Tony tossed the last of the computer parts aside and held up a scrap of paper, this one much older than the research papers left behind. Their photos, newer ones at odds with the paper they were stapled to, were half-covered in notations and figures, and Clint instinctively moved away from it, holding his line like a teddy bear to his chest.

"We were kidnapped."

…

To say that Tony was pissed was an understatement; the engineer's face had twisted when Clint's mouth had popped open and said those three little words, and he growled, tossing the paper aside. It had shown little more than their heights, weights, and simple drawings of a bow and his repulsor system…but it was too much. He snarled a little and kicked a monitor in; he fucking _hated_ getting kidnapped, hated it like he hated Victor Von Doom and being handed shit.

Except this…this was far worse. He had no idea where to go; there wasn't something so simple as schematics or a fucking map or blueprint to show them the way out, and in a massive ass abandoned salt mine made over into an enormous scientific testing facility? It was like working through a rabbit warren, except that Wonderland wasn't on the other side. So, he rubbed his face and tried to think…tried to think of something, anything, that might help them out. Unfortunately…the only way left for them to go was back out into the service ducts, and he didn't think there was much more left in the darkness…which meant they had to turn towards the light.

Fuck.

"Hey, Tony?" It was odd to hear Clint use his name; most of the time it was Doctor Robotnik or Stark or Iron Man…of course, he always called the archer Link or Barton or Hawkass.

"Yeah?"

"What the hell is that?" Tony turned to where Clint was pointing through the glazed window, into a former storage room, he figured…where a pair of odd looking weapons hung from simple cradles, grasping claws on the front looking rather terrifying.

"I have no idea. Shall we?" Hawkeye shrugged and set his coil of computer rope down to walk over and shoulder aside the broken glass panel. Tony slipped by him and hopped down into the room, slowly examining the weapons before even daring to touch one. He knew most of the tech wasn't too violent in terms of activation here; that was one thing he'd kept from his father's rants about Cave, and he was thankful, for a change, that he had. The guns, he supposed they were guns, were simple to use, with a toggle switch above the trigger that intrigued him, and slowly, he pulled it on over his arm, pointing it at the white paneled wall…

And pulled the trigger.

A beam of red energy blasted from the tip, and knocked him back a little; when he looked up at Clint's intake of breath, his eyes went wide.

"Holy fuck…"

"Stark, you just created a portal."

…

Clint stared, wide-eyed, as Tony preceded to toggle the switch over, and a similar beam of energy, this one gold, shot out to form a second portal…and they had the oddest experience of looking in one, and seeing themselves in the other. He sat down on his ass on the ledge, absolutely stunned as Tony began to jump back and forth between them, his manic grin growing until it was almost terrifying, and the archer shivered a little, too nervous still to even shift closer to the other gun.

This was…wow. This was science of a level that left Iron Man and The Hulk in the dust, science so profound and dangerous as to traverse on the realm of the gods…and he knew Thor would probably just be proud of his 'human friends' for rediscovering it. Loki, on the other hand…He resolutely shut out those dangerous green eyes and fought to control his breathing, willing calmness into himself despite the fact that his control was badly shaken.

"Clint?" Tony's voice broke the spiral of emotion and terror, and Clint clung to it, turning tired blue eyes to confused brown, understanding slowly dawning between them. "Hey…whatcha need?" Not for the first time, he was thankful that the genius understood, that all of his team understood, and Clint reached out with a shaky hand and tugged on Tony's suit, pulling him close enough to rest his head against the other man's chest. A familiar, usually grease-stained hand stroked through his hair and he settled his breathing, realizing that Tony was doing the same.

"Normally, I don't condone this sort of touchy-feely crap…but we're kinda out of the realm of normal, so just let me know if you need something, okay? I know this isn't really your favorite sort of place, and its gotta fuck with you right now…But…um….fuck, I really suck at this-"

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"…Gotcha."

**A/N: So, finally updating! Sorry this has taken so long, folks…also, review answers, starting with the most recent~**

**Guest 2 - I can't answer the first question yet (that would be spoilers!), and as for mentioning Umbrella, yes, I know they're different universes, totally different fandoms. It's a tongue-in-cheek reference to the connections between Portal, Half-Life, and the initial designs of Resident Evil/Biohazard. It was meant to be funny, not something to be taken seriously, so I apologize for the confusion.**

**LazerPoweredCucumber - First, I love your screen name. Second, thank you! I really worked to make Tony and Clint believable, since of the members of the team, they're possibly the most average guys there.**

**Archer83 - -wicked grin- HERE YA GO!**

**Guest 1 - I live to serve!**

**Ideographer - Thank you so very much! There'll be more offhand references later on to other game universes, I promise, and definitely more internal monologue; they're both so fun to poke and prod!**

**Party-Like-A-Hawkstar - -laughs- Yup! Thanks for reading!**

**Shadow Haloed Angel - Darlin', you make everything better. Also, your crazy is so damn sexy.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Portal, nor Marvel. I just like kicking their sand around.**

"Tony, this is such a bad idea."

"I know, it's one of mine after all."

"Such a fucking bad idea, dude." Clint repeated, staring over the edge of the yawning pit that was the end of the office spaces they'd spent the last however many hours exploring. He was equipped with one of the portal guns now himself; they'd passed a little bit of time exploring his blue and purple beams and how they corresponded with each other, and worked out a pretty reasonable plan of action. Which meant that Clint was seriously considering the idea Tony had presented, that they had to go down before they went up...and that meant dropping into the bowels of Aperture itself, the very base of operations for the entire setup.

They were so fucked.

He took a deep breath, letting it out as he adjusted the gun on his left arm, shifting a little to check that the arms of his jumpsuit were still securely tied around his waist, leaving his black tank to the cool air. He'd left his grappling hook and line wrapped around his chest, while Tony was still busy making calculations and peeling down his own jumpsuit.

"Almost ready?"

"Almost, just gimme a sec...There. Alright. Now, the plan?"

"You shoot your red beam, I fire my purple on the opposite wall."

"Then the yellow and blue ones. Right. Work our way down the pipe by jumping between the portals."

"Christ, this is totally not cool, dude." Tony just snorted and flapped his hands a little.

"...Really, Barton? This is coming from the guy who routinely plays 'Catch the Archer' with the Hulk?"

"I _trust_ Jolly Green, thank you very much, Iron _Ass_." He shot back, giving the engineer a half-hearted glare, only to get a laugh in return. "Look, this is still fuckin' scary, dude; I don't like going even deeper into this rat's nest."

"I know, I know, but trust me, the way out of these old salt mines is always through the one point no one remembers; to do that, we have to find the old part of Aperture, when Cave wasn't as careful, and he didn't have the super computer fully operational. There's always a way out; you know that better than anyone." Clint sighed but gave him a rueful smile, chuckling as he crouched down now, aiming for the white rectangle Tony had designated as his first target. Tony moved around to the opposite edge, and flashing him a half-salute, fired the first beam just as Clint pulled the trigger on his own. The portal opened, just as they'd practiced, and they fired the second round, these ones now perpendicular to the first pair.

"Ready?" That was Tony, just the tiniest waver of fear in his voice, and Clint had to grin, nodding.

"Ready." With that, Clint tossed himself off into the abyss, swinging the grappling hook in his free hand to catch the pipes up above, and using that momentum, he flashed into the red portal...and Tony followed a moment after, disappearing into the purple before they both reappeared, both screaming now as they shot the next two sets of portals into the walls, though whether it was through fear or adrenaline, not even Clint could say. He whooped as he passed through the third set, Tony a bare hair above him, and aimed for the fourth, a careless grin dancing over his face as he shot with perfect precision. The purple beam opened for him...and suddenly, there was no featureless white before him, only open air...

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" He screamed as Tony crashed into him from above, and they both went tumbling through the air, their momentum lost. It was Tony who saw the lone piece of white below them, and the wall of the building not too far away from it, and he got Clint's attention by howling in his ear, latching on to the archer like a leech.

"_FIRE AT THE FUCKING FLOOR TILES AND THAT WALL! NOW!_" Clint hissed a little as he grabbed at the archer's hair, and took aim, eyes sighting down the fat gun on his arm as sure as any sniper scope, and in an instant, the portal was opened, and they fell through it...with Clint landing flat on his back, Tony winded on top of him as the world righted itself and dimly, Clint realized they were next to the wall, on a bunch of dead and dying weeds. And Tony Stark was a lot fucking heavier than he looked.

"Off, Iron Ass, I can't breathe." He croaked out, giving Tony's shoulder a light shove. The engineer wrinkled his nose at him and rolled off, flipping him off as he eased up onto his heels and scanned the area, looking for all the world like a demented, orange-clad ferret. Clint sighed and sat up, rubbing his head and shaking off the dry flakes of leaf litter and decades-old dust, standing up at last to stroll around. "Alright, what's the plan now?" Tony just shrugged loosely, matching him stride for stride as they began to explore. The bottom of the complex was clearly designed just after the last World War; heavy shades of yellowish-cream and burnt orange lay under gray salt dust in the same, trademark craftsman style that had reigned in the fifties-era government buildings. Tony just chuckled as he set one hand on his hips.

"Well, that's pretty damn obvious. We get the fuck outta here."

…

Tony scratched at his throat, feeling an uncharacteristic itch all over his skin as he walked down memory lane into the first building. It was...it was all too much like the laboratories under Manhattan, out in the desert...those had been his first homes, after all, not the mansion in New York. This...this was memory and life and a family broken before it ever had a chance to become. It made his fucking skin crawl.

"Any idea what direction we need to go?" Clint's voice was soft, a little tired and none too curious for a change, and Tony almost blessed that lack, because today was not a day he wanted to spend holed up in his memories and the lost cause that was his life. He only smiled faintly at the archer and waved a hand toward the lab at the back.

"Let's head in here; knowing my old man and his associates, there's always a back door out of places like these."

"Really now? And how do we go about finding these?" Tony chuckled and started examining the beige carpeting, yanking up whole sections as he went.

"We examine every nook and cranny, and look for anything that seems out of place."

"Oh. Gotcha. Like this?" A shit-eating grin spread across the archer's face as he leaned against one wall, where a faint seam could be seen in just the right light...and Tony started laughing lightly.

"That right there. Thanks, Hawkass." Clint just flashed him a swift grin and nodded, and Tony came over to push on the wall. It budged maybe an inch, and both men had to shove it finally to the side, grunting and sweating for their efforts. Tony surveyed the entrance, and the dark hallway beyond it, and grinned a little. "Alrighty, now that we've found something that we weren't supposed to...let's cobble together a few more things and get a little rest, eh?" Clint gave him a faint look.

"I thought we couldn't sleep in this place?"

"We don't need to, but you and I both know that that might not remain the same. So let's get a little shut -eye and some scavenging done, then we'll head out." Clint sighed, and nodded, eyes roaming over the lab as he began to search it, and Tony glanced down into the darkness, shifting his own black shirt down enough to let the cool blue light of his reactor wash over the staircase leading up. "Alright...we can do this. We...we can do this. Right?"


End file.
